


Pushing Limits

by psychoadept



Series: kink!verse [6]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-02
Updated: 2006-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:51:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychoadept/pseuds/psychoadept
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giles wrestles with his insecurities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing Limits

Giles stopped at the top of the stairs, brought up short by the sight of Wesley on the bed. Not that he hadn’t known what he would find, since Wesley hadn’t moved—couldn’t have—in the half hour since Giles had left him, but the reality affected him like a hand on his cock. Wesley was splayed out on his back, his cock livid against his stomach thanks to the vibrator running on a low setting in his arse. He was breathing in shallow, hitching pants, harsh and loud in the otherwise quiet flat. His face was crossed by two dark stripes: one a strip of cloth from a worn-out pair of Giles’ trousers, covering his eyes; the other was one of Giles’ belts, modified to fit tight between his teeth. Giles had been reluctant to gag him, terrified by the thought that something could go wrong and Wesley wouldn’t be able to alert him. But Wesley wanted it and Giles found it difficult to refuse the younger man anything. Even so, he’d insisted that Wesley come up with a safety signal before agreeing.

For all that he was essentially immobilized, Wesley was in constant motion. His limbs were drawn taut enough to be uncomfortable after so long, and he shifted restlessly, trying to ease the tension. His hips rocked steadily, arse clenching and unclenching, trying to gain more stimulation from the vibrator. As Giles watched, Wesley found a movement that gave him that extra something, perhaps pressing the vibrator against his prostate. His whole body tensed, his hips and breathing falling into a unified rhythm as he repeated the movement several times. Then he lost the rhythm and went limp with a small groan of disappointment. Giles caught himself as he was about to echo the groan, so enthralled by Wesley’s abandon that he forgot for a moment the other man wasn’t meant to be able to satisfy himself.

It would be easy to get drunk on the power Wesley offered him. The younger man submitted eagerly to every torment Giles could devise for him, and after every one he still gazed at Giles with gratitude, worship, and absolute trust. Sometimes Giles wanted to hurt Wesley just to prove that his trust was ill-founded, just so he didn’t have to carry the burden of living up to Wesley’s expectations. Other times, he thought of Wesley and all he could hear was Ethan’s accusing voice: “They don’t know what you’re capable of.” He feared driving Wesley away as surely as he had Ethan, if he couldn’t keep himself in check. Whenever Giles suggested that things could be different between them, though, Wesley became so distraught that Giles let it drop.

The truth was that Giles didn’t really want things to change, either. Seeing Wesley like this never failed to leave him dizzy with lust, and he knew it would take more than a few niggling concerns to make him give it up.

He let his hand drift to his groin, clenching his jaw against the noises that were trying to escape as he kneaded his cock through the fabric of his trousers. Wesley didn’t seem to be aware of his presence yet, and Giles preferred to keep it that way for a little while longer. The voyeuristic feel of watching Wesley without his knowledge, the guilty pleasure of indulging himself while Wesley was helpless to ease his own arousal, only made Giles press his hand harder against his erection.

Despite the layers of fabric between his hand and his cock, it wasn’t long before his arousal reached its breaking point. He couldn’t hold back a low groan at the tingling pleasure that raced across his skin, the warm flood of semen in his trousers. He was perversely pleased by the mess he’d made, the evidence of his naughty indulgence, but knew if he didn’t clean up he would be uncomfortable soon. No longer trying to conceal his presence, since Wesley had obviously heard him, he stripped off everything but his t-shirt and cleaned himself with his soiled boxers before donning a fresh pair.

Wesley squirmed and made pleading noises when Giles didn’t attend to him immediately. There was little that agitated Wesley more than being so pointedly ignored, but Giles had learned how to play on his uneasiness without making him truly unhappy. As soon as he’d changed, he moved to stand by the bed, then waited. Wesley gradually quieted and went still again, as he realized his efforts were counterproductive. Giles forbore another few moments, then did the one thing he knew Wesley wouldn’t expect. He stroked Wesley’s cock.

Wesley’s body arced like an electric current to Giles’ touch, a startled cry torn from his throat. Giles smiled and let Wesley thrust against his open palm as much as he could. It wasn’t nearly enough, as Wesley’s needy whimpers soon attested.

Conversationally, Giles asked, “Would you like to come?”

Wesley nodded frantically.

“Liar.”

Wesley mewled, though whether it was a protest or a concession Giles couldn’t say.

“You’d be disappointed I ended it so quickly,” he continued, keeping his tone disinterested. “Wouldn’t you?” Wesley made another indeterminate sound, so Giles asked again, more insistently, “Wouldn’t you?”

For an instant Giles feared he’d pushed too hard, that Wesley wouldn’t be able to admit he enjoyed the frustration, but then he nodded and gave a defeated whimper.

“Yes,” Giles agreed. Taking pity, of a sort, he withdrew his hand and situated himself next to the younger man on the bed. Despite his posturing, he didn’t intend to keep Wesley quite that desperate—not yet, at least. Between Spike, the odd apocalypse or three, and everything else that tended to crop up on a Hellmouth, it had been far too long since he’d been able to give Wesley his undivided attention. He wanted to take his time, and that meant keeping Wesley’s arousal at a simmer, not a boil.

He watched the labored rise and fall of Wesley’s chest for a moment, as the younger man drifted back towards the almost meditative state he’d been in when Giles came upstairs. He had to admit that there was something heady about having Wesley so fully at his mercy, robbed of even the ability to beg. It stirred something deeper in him than simple lust, filled some nameless need in his psyche. He was glad he’d already dealt with his arousal, leaving him clear-headed enough to appreciate it. A surge of affection for Wesley prompted him to run a hand aimlessly across the other man’s chest.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, knowing the praise pleased Wesley, though that was one guilty pleasure Giles would never force him to confess. “I never tire of looking at you.”

For several minutes he let his hands wander as they would over Wesley’s body, tracing the contours of his muscles and seeking out the spots that made him shudder and sigh with pleasure. The loudest sound either of them heard was the faint hum of the vibrator, as they both focused on the path of Giles’ hands. Wesley’s restless movement stilled under Giles’ touch; his breathing deepened and evened out. It was only when Giles’ fingers trailed up his inner thigh, nearly brushing his balls before veering away, that Wesley squirmed and whimpered again.

Giles smiled darkly. Time to make the gag do its job. Reaching between Wesley’s legs, he grasped the base of the vibrator and pulled gently until Wesley’s sphincter yielded its grip on the groove that held the toy in place. He spent a few moments fucking Wesley shallowly with it, enjoying the moans that earned him. Then he angled it until a change in Wesley’s pitch told him he’d found the other man’s prostate. With his free hand, he quickly turned the vibrator to its highest setting.

Wesley’s hips bucked and he yelped at the unexpected intensity. As soon as the shock wore off, though, he began rapidly rocking his hips. Giles just held the vibrator steady, letting Wesley do most of the work. The younger man was soon reduced to gasps and grunts as he rutted shamelessly. When it seemed as though he might be nearing orgasm, Giles pulled the vibrator out. Wesley let out a frustrated, almost angry cry, the belt folding double between his teeth as he strained against his bonds.

Giles stood up long enough to toss the vibrator in the tray for toys to be cleaned, then climbed on the bed and straddled Wesley’s hips, settling his weight directly over Wesley’s cock. Wesley was panting from exertion, his muscles corded and skin shining with sweat, but Giles tuned him out, needing to collect his thoughts. He knew if Wesley had been able to speak freely he would have relented at that point, swayed by the younger man’s pleading. It was remarkable how, even though he knew exactly what Wesley would have said, he felt so much less compelled to respond when he couldn’t actually hear the words.

It made him nervous. He knew Wesley wanted more, but neither of them knew how much more. Wesley had his signal, but Giles wasn’t convinced the younger man would recognize his own limits until they were so far past them that irreparable damage had been done. That left it up to Giles to be sure things didn’t go too far.

Making a quick decision on how to proceed, he said, “I’m not going to fuck you.”

Of course, he’d already known he wouldn’t fuck Wesley. It was the reason he'd permitted himself to wank; he didn't trust himself to stay attuned to the subtleties of Wesley's responses while he was in his own haze of lust. Even now, though his cock remained unresponsive, the sight of Wesley helpless and wanton beneath him was a siren call, urging him to show no mercy. There was no need to let Wesley in on all his reasons, though. He had no qualms about twisting the truth to suit his purpose, under the circumstances.

“I gave you this—” He traced the spit-damp leather between Wesley's teeth with his fingertips. “—because you wanted it. As a consequence, I am denied the exceptional pleasure of hearing you beg. Since you can't beg for my cock, I see no reason I should let you have it. Do you?”

Wesley shook his head dejectedly, a faint sound that might have been, “No,” emerging from behind the gag.

“On the other hand,” Giles continued, moving his hand down to play with one of Wesley’s nipples, “I'm quite pleased with you at the moment. You've been remarkably patient these last several weeks, when I couldn't give you as much attention as I know you wanted—particularly while Spike was here. I’d say you’ve earned a reward.”

He leaned forward, shifting his weight just to see Wesley’s face contort with sensation, and said more softly, “I thought I might suck you off. Would that be sufficient reward for you?” He chuckled at Wesley’s eager nodding and grunting. “All right. But not just yet. I haven’t finished with you.”

Wesley whined in protest and tried to thrust his hips up. In rebuke, Giles pinched Wesley’s nipple hard enough to draw shocked squeak. “Patience,” he snapped. “It’s not too late for me to change my mind.”

Giving in to a sudden, wicked impulse, he added, “Or is that what you want?” He scooted back so that he could just reach Wesley’s cock between his thighs, curling his fingers around the shaft and thumbing the head idly. Close as he already was, it wasn’t long before Wesley was pantingly near orgasm, straining to move into the touch but pinned by Giles’ weight. “Do you want me to deny you entirely? Keep you hard so long it’s more pain than pleasure? Bring you to the edge, and then just… stop?” Suiting action to word, Giles withdrew his hand again.

Wesley shook his head and whimpered vehemently, in what certainly seemed to Giles like genuine distress. Contrition hit him as suddenly as the original impulse. Shifting position again, he pressed himself along the length of Wesley’s body so that he could murmur more gently in Wesley’s ear, “Patience. I always make it worth your while, don’t I?”

Wesley nodded, still gasping with arousal, but relaxing at the reassurance that Giles wasn’t going to refuse to let him come.

“That’s right,” Giles agreed. Wesley’s acquiescence allowed him to let go of his concerns as well, telling him he wasn’t too close to Wesley limits. He turned his head and caught Wesley’s lower lip between his teeth, nibbling it playfully for a moment before sliding lower, trailing licks and nips along Wesley’s neck.

This part was pure self-indulgence. Giles loved the rasp of stubble against his lips and tongue, the resistance of skin as he marked it with his teeth, the endless variety of noises Wesley produced in response. Certainly Wesley enjoyed the sensations, too, on some level, but Giles suspected the other man was so intensely aroused he couldn’t appreciate them except as something that ratcheted up his arousal another few notches, making it that much harder to endure. Knowing that Wesley’s endurance had its limits, Giles didn’t linger over his nipples, giving each only a token tug in passing. He took his time moving down Wesley’s body, but didn’t bother to disguise the fact he was zeroing in on Wesley’s groin, loving the way the other man’s body tightened as much from anticipation as from physical stimulation.

Just as Wesley’s erection bumped the underside of Giles’ chin, he stopped moving altogether. When Wesley’s hips bucked, Giles grabbed them and forced them down. He held himself motionless for a few more seconds, reveling in Wesley’s futile struggles, then lowered his head the few millimeters necessary to bring his chin in full contact with the head of Wesley’s cock. As he turned his head slowly side-to-side, scraping his own prickly stubble against the hypersensitive flesh, Wesley jerked and keened in pain. His arousal seemed to ebb marginally, which had been Giles’ intent: to pull him back from the brink so that he wouldn’t come at the first touch of Giles’ tongue.

To further that goal, Giles lifted one hand from Wesley’s hips and clamped his fingers around the base of Wesley’s cock and scrotum, in an approximation of a cock ring. Only then did he dip his head low enough to snake his tongue across Wesley’s balls. It took all his strength to keep Wesley’s hips still as he licked his way up the length of Wesley’s cock. He wished he could have been more thorough, but knew it was his own fault for making Wesley wait so long.

As he took the head into his mouth at last, suckling hard and flicking his tongue back and forth, Wesley’s voice reached a pitch Giles didn’t think he’d ever heard before. It was a matter of seconds before Wesley came, his cries choked off abruptly by the intensity of it. The moment Giles tasted come he lowered his head, taking Wesley in all the way and swallowing, trying to draw out his orgasm. He grinned triumphantly around Wesley’s cock as the younger man’s semen filled his throat, only pulling away when Wesley’s erection began to soften.

Wesley was always rather shaken at the end of an intense session, and this was no exception. As soon as the last glow of orgasm faded, he started pulling anxiously at the restraints, wanting loose. Giles snapped the cuffs free of their respective anchors and gathered Wesley into his arms, rubbing his shoulders to try to ease the stiffness of prolonged extension. Wesley responded by groaning with relief and clinging to Giles like a vine.

It was at moments like this, when Wesley walls were down, ripped away like a scab from an old wound, leaving everything tender and raw, that Giles knew he would never willfully betray Wesley’s trust. That Wesley turned to Giles when he was at his most vulnerable, that he allowed Giles to make him that vulnerable—it made Giles feel at once incredibly powerful and deeply humble. He hadn’t earned this, didn’t deserve to have Wesley at his mercy, in his arms, but there he was. Why Wesley trusted him he would never understand; he could only drink in every demonstration of it like a drug. It was a high that rivaled anything he’d done in his youth.

Giles continued gently massaging Wesley’s shoulders and back until the younger man’s hold on him slackened. Then he carefully unbuckled the gag and eased the leather out of Wesley’s mouth. Wesley worked his jaw for a moment and started to say something, but his voice came out a hoarse croak.

“Here,” Giles said, grabbing the bottle of water on the nightstand. He cupped one hand around the back of Wesley’s head to steady him and raised the bottle to his lips. Wesley brought his own hand up to help direct it, but he didn’t try to take the bottle, just gulped water down until Giles began to fear he would run out of air. He only gasped once when he finally stopped, then heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction.

Giles chuckled. “Better?”

“Much,” Wesley replied. He did sound better, if still slightly hoarse.

“Good,” Giles said. He put the water aside, then touched the blindfold at Wesley’s temple. “Ready?”

Wesley nodded, so Giles slipped it off. He gave Wesley a minute to adjust to the light, then lay down, pulling the younger man with him. Wesley came along willingly, turning to lie pressed against Giles’ side.

Running his fingers through Wesley’s hair, which was spiky with sweat, Giles asked, “How do you feel?”

For a moment he thought Wesley’s sleepy groan was the only response he would get, but finally the younger man mumbled, “Drained. Done in. Half dead.”

Giles frowned in concern. “Was it too much? Are you—?”

He stopped when Wesley tilted his head back to roll half-lidded eyes and give Giles a faint, exasperated smile. “Fine. You were magnificent.”

Giles couldn’t keep a diffident grin off his face. Wesley’s compliments never failed to catch him off guard. “So were you,” he stammered.

Wesley snorted and looked away. “Now that that’s settled, someone did just try to kill me with kindness, so I could use a nap.”

Giles hesitated to respond, stung even though he knew Wesley’s sarcasm was just an automatic defense. It was hard to say whether he was more embarrassed by what he had said or what Giles had said. Giles opened his mouth to chide Wesley, but the younger man was already shaking his head in regret.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I am very tired.”

“All right,” Giles said, smiling and touching Wesley’s cheek to let him know he wasn’t angry. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you in an hour or two.”

While Wesley squirmed into a more comfortable position, Giles slung an arm over the side of the bed and dragged a blanket up to cover them. Wesley was sound asleep within minutes, but Giles had no intention of going to sleep. They’d need to take a shower before they settled in for the night, and in any case he was keyed up rather than worn out.

He gazed fondly at the dark head pillowed on his shoulder, once again playing idly with Wesley’s hair. It was hard to believe he’d known Wesley for less than a year. Hell, a year ago he’d still been an official Watcher, still toeing the Council’s line. Now he could hardly remember what that had been like. If someone had asked him then to name one thing he wanted in life, he would have said a guarantee of Buffy’s safety, or the annihilation of vampires, or, more selfishly, to have Jenny back.

“A man who loves it when I dominate him” wouldn’t even have been under consideration. He’d thought he was long past the phase in which he’d enjoyed subjugating his sexual partners, thought he’d left it behind after things with Ethan had gone sour. Ethan’s occasional reappearance in his life notwithstanding, he’d honestly believed it wasn’t something he wanted anymore.

He hadn’t realized how hard he was fighting himself until he stopped, until Wesley unexpectedly gave him an outlet for desires he’d denied for twenty years. At first he’d pushed Wesley as hard as he dared, expecting the younger man to tire of being bullied and leave. He wanted it over as quickly as possible, because the longer Wesley stayed the less Giles could bear the thought of losing him. But Wesley was still there, and somehow he had become the one pushing Giles to go farther, to do things that Giles would have considered too extreme—like gagging him.

Giles heaved a deep sigh, displacing Wesley enough that he stirred in his sleep and threw an arm across Giles’ stomach. Wesley was still there. Wesley wanted to be dominated. Wesley trusted him. He knew, rationally, that his fear of driving Wesley away was in danger of keeping him from giving the younger man what he wanted. Holding back would drive Wesley away just as inevitably as going too far, though. Surely there was a middle ground. Wesley was willing to trust him; maybe it was time he trusted Wesley a little more. If he could stop operating on the assumption that Wesley would eventually leave him and start believing that Wesley truly knew what he wanted, maybe they could both get what they needed.


End file.
